


The Armali Gambit

by ApocalypseThen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Chess, F/F, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samantha Traynor has a bruise on her neck. Shepard, her adoptive sister, is concerned for her safety.</p><p>Written as a fill for the kink meme:<br/>http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/9115.html?thread=43344795#t43344795</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Armali Gambit

“Karin. What was Samantha in here for?” Shepard poked her head around the door of the medical bay.

“You know I can't tell you that, Commander,” replied the doctor, coolly. “Confidentiality.”

Shepard entered the room and faced the doctor, who swiveled her chair around. “I know, Karin. But Sam...” Shepard paused, frowning. “Sam might be the only family I have left.” She sat down in the chair that Samantha had recently vacated. “I need to know she's OK. I can't have that on my mind right now. That bruise on her neck looked pretty bad.”

“You and Samantha?” asked Chakwas, surprised. “I didn't know that you were related.”

“Not by blood. But we were inseparable growing up. She's like a little sister to me,” said Shepard. “Her parents basically took me in after,” she flapped her hand in the air, unwilling to broach a difficult topic, “you know. I freaked out when I found out she was aboard.” 

Karin knew the events Shepard was alluding to. The slaughter of her family by slavers. “I see. Well, I suppose that as Commander of this vessel, you should be informed of any conditions that might affect operational readiness?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Doctor,” nodded Shepard. Play it by the book. “Is there anything that might affect Specialist Traynor's ability to fulfill her duties?”

“No.”

Shepard threw her hands up in frustration, but she was far from upset with the good Doctor, who she counted as one of her closest friends. She didn't get told 'no' a lot. It was refreshing. She also knew that arguing would be pointless. Once Chakwas had her mind made up, even alcohol couldn't convince her to change it.

“She did say that she was meeting someone down at the Silversun Strip, however,” added Chakwas, turning back to her monitor.

Shepard was out of her seat and through the door before Chakwas had finished speaking. The doctor smiled to herself.

Pausing only to grab her omnitool and a pistol, Shepard was in a cab and on her way in under a minute. Using her Spectre access she had the cab exceed the speed limit. She checked the ship's logs remotely on her omnitool. Samantha had left the ship ten minutes ahead of her. With luck she should make up that time handily.

Descending from the cab at the Silversun transit terminal, she engaged her cloak and vanished in the crowd. She forced herself to calm down, and found a niche affording a good view of the transit hub but where she would be undisturbed by casual passers-by.

Shepard was worried. Samantha and her had had such a good relationship, when they were younger. Sure, they hadn't seen much of each other for a few years. There was the time she'd been dead. The time she was on a secret terrorist mission. The time she was in jail. They'd had a lot of catching-up to do, and some trust to rebuild. But here she was, a livid bruise decorating her neck and a furtive expression on her face, stepping out of a cab. 

Samantha walked off into the crowd, not giving the impression that she was meeting someone directly at the terminal. Shepard followed. It was busy enough that it was easier to disengage her cloak to avoid being constantly jostled. She tracked Samantha to the entrance of an apartment building just off the strip, less well appointed than her own, but still, it was a popular and glamorous neighborhood. Not everyone could afford to live here.

She cloaked again and slipped into the apartment building just behind Samantha, who had the access codes. Her electronic countermeasures registered an interrogation by the building's sensors but reassured them that all was well and deleted her existence from their records, just to be sure.

Traveling up in the elevator unseen, but standing less than a meter from Samantha was educational. Shepard had always teased her about how she would mutter to herself when she was nervous. And she was very nervous right now. One of her hands delicately probed the bruise at her neck, and when she winced audibly, Shepard had to resist her instinct to wrap her up in a sisterly hug. She got the feeling that wherever Samantha was going, it was into the lions den. What kind of trouble had she gotten herself into?

It was strange trouble indeed. Once Samantha had worked up the courage to make her presence known to apartment 12, having spent a few moments talking herself into it, clearing her throat, and hopping from foot to foot, the door opened. Shepard had positioned herself for a good view. 

“Traynor,” said a tall, slim asari, her superior tone instantly recognisable to Shepard. “You're late.”

T'Suzsa! Shepard thought. Damn it, what was going on here? Shepard had witnessed Samantha's public humiliation of T'Suzsa at the Kepesh-Yakshi tournament not two days previously. And now Samantha was invited around for tea?

Samantha's voice cracked a little as she spoke. She was obviously extremely nervous. “I... I don't think so, T'Suzsa,” she stuttered.

“A weak grip on reality, as usual, Traynor. I shall have to motivate you to be more punctual,” said the asari in her nasal, grating voice, as she stood aside and tilted her head to indicate that Samantha should enter. 

Shepard had a fraction of a second to decide whether to follow Samantha into the apartment. In the end, her professional reflexes trumped her protective instincts. She didn't want to be caught inside, unable to make her exit without revealing her presence. She still wasn't sure that whatever was going on inside would be sinister. And besides, she could observe nearly as well from out here. 

She keyed her omnitool to combined thermal and microwave backscatter imaging. A low-contrast reconstruction of the interior of the apartment swam into view as the omnitool integrated the two passive scanning techniques. It wasn't a great image as the door was thick and there wasn't a powerful microwave source nearby, but she could make out the two forms standing in the middle of what was probably the main room of the apartment. She recognised her sibling mainly from her posture and defensive body language.

Next Shepard detached a network of microprobes from her omnitool and arranged them across the door and apartment wall. Vibration-sensitive, she had them correlate with the imaging to focus on sounds originating around the two warm bodies.

“... doctor say?” came the supercilious tone of the asari strategist. Shepard's teeth ground together unconsciously.

“It'll be fine,” Samantha replied, dismissively. She had one hand up by her neck. “Gone in a couple of days.”

“Just as long as you don't try to use it as an excuse,” T'Suzsa responded. Shepard thought that everything about her needed a good slap. “Shall we begin, then? I'm looking forward to crushing you again, Traynor.”

“Like you did at the tournament, you mean, T'Suzsa?” replied Samantha, lightly. Shepard couldn't help but smirk at the catty riposte.

“Well, without your interfering accomplice, you aren't really a match for me, are you Traynor? I thought that was clear after your performance yesterday,” T'Suzsa came back. 

“Yesterday? When you gave me Thessian spiced tea?” asked Samantha, a dangerous tone in her voice. “A severe diuretic, in humans!”

“Being poorly informed is the human condition, of which you are a perfect example, Traynor,” hissed T'Suzsa, unrepentant. “If you knew anything about asari culture...”

“Enough to know that you can't stand being beaten fair and square,” Samantha replied, “by someone younger, prettier, and smarter than you!” Shepard smiled. That was the more like the Samantha she had spent her adolescence with. Confident, even a little bit arrogant sometimes. Not afraid to stand up for herself.

T'Suzsa was not so easy to provoke, however. “Enough. Let us play,” she said in an icy tone. Shepard observed the two forms take up seated positions on opposite sides of a small table. She couldn't make out the board or the pieces, but the two competitors were soon engrossed.

T'Suzsa was the first to break the silence. Score one for Samantha, thought Shepard. “A bold move, Traynor,” she said, taunting. “Let's hope you regret it.”

Her gambit was met by steely resolve. “Unless of course, it's a trap, T'Suzsa,” said Samantha, coolly. “A spicy, tea-flavoured trap.”

“You make so little sense, Traynor, that the noise is barely a distraction,” said the asari. Ouch, thought Shepard, that one was on the mark.

“It doesn't matter if you're not distracted,” said Samantha, her voice radiating confidence. “It'll be over in five moves. Whatever you do.”

“Then I shall defeat you in four,” replied T'Suzsa, although was that a chink in the armor that Shepard detected? A note of worry in her tone?

“I think not. Look again, Polgara,” said Samantha, emphasising the asari's first name. Using excessive familiarity, Shepard thought, another solid technique to destabilise an opponent.

“Ah,” said T'Suzsa. “Very clever, Traynor. But you have forgotten about the Armali gambit.” Her voice dead level, a hand poised over the board. Shepard was on tenterhooks. This was great entertainment.

“There's no such thing,” said Samantha, dismissively. “Is there?” a note of doubt, creeping into her voice.

“Late to arrive. Haven't done your research,” T'Suzsa said, sniffing. “Didn't have time for a shower.” That was oddly personal, thought Shepard. The asari's arm, still perfectly poised above the table, hadn't touched a piece yet.

“Fighting a war,” replied Samantha, mimicking T'Suzsa's diction. “Saving the galaxy. Still finding time to kick your blue arse at chess.”

“Arrogant. Overconfident!” T'Suzsa was losing her cool, her voice raised. “Smug! CHILD!” she shouted, and her arm swept across the board. Shepard heard the clatter of pieces, which were too small to register on the image. With a roar of frustration, T'Suzsa reached over with one hand to take Samantha by the neck. Samantha's scream was strangled into a high-pitched keening.

Shepard wasted no time. Her sister was in danger. She keyed in her over-ride code to unlock the door, drew her pistol and barged in with T'Suzsa in her sights. “Let her go, now! Hands where I can see them!”

She was greeted with a confusing tableau. The chess pieces, scattered across the floor. The small table, tossed aside. Samantha, her head tilted back and to the side, her eyes closed, a whine emerging from between clenched teeth. The asari's mouth, buried in her neck, lips smacking against the vulnerable flesh. Samantha's hand on the back of T'Suzsa's head, pulling her deeper in. T'Suzsa, one hand on Samantha's shoulder, the other between her legs. Samantha's knees, spreading apart, her pelvis thrusting forward, on the edge of her chair.

In the split second it took Shepard to take in the details, Samantha's eyes flew open. “Shepard?” she asked, confused.  
T'Suzsa was marginally slower to react. Disengaging from Samantha's neck, she straightened and clenched her fists, turning to face Shepard. “Shepard,” she hissed. “Yet again, you stick your nose where it doesn't belong.”

Shepard, never the quickest at reading the emotional landscape, just wanted to be sure. “Samantha? Are you OK?” she asked. “Is she hurting you?” Her gun, not wavering from T'Suzsa's center mass.

T'Suzsa was the one to reply. “I think you had better go with your friend, Traynor,” she said haughtily, all trace of emotion other than disdain now thoroughly under control again. “I think we're done.”

Samantha, having recovered from her initial shock, gave Shepard a withering look that rocked her to her core, and strode out briskly, directly across Shepard's field of fire.

Shepard lowered her weapon. “I should probably,” she started, then, realising that Samantha's footsteps were rapidly receding along the corridor, she turned tail and ran to catch up without finishing that thought.

“Samantha, wait!” she called, jogging down the corridor.

Samantha stopped at the elevator and waited for Shepard to catch up. She seemed, if not calmer, then more controlled. “I am very upset with you. Really, very annoyed,” she said, in a jocular tone that had more than a hint of irritation behind it. “I'm not a little girl any more, you know.” She fixed Shepard with a grim look, as if daring her to contradict her.

“I know,” said Shepard. “It's just, I saw your neck, and then I got worried, so I...” 

Samantha cut her off with an unexpected hug. “You big oaf. It's just a hickey!” She sniffled a little into Shepard's shoulder. “I grew up, sis,” she continued. “You died for a while, and I grew up some more. Shh, no,” she told Shepard, who had been about to interrupt. “Now, I'm going to go back and see if I can get my whiny-bitch consenting-adult of a fuck-buddy to hate-bang me one more time before we ship out forever,” she said matter-of-factly. “See you at dinner, OK?” She pushed Shepard gently as the elevator doors opened on cue. As the doors closed on Shepard's view, she caught Samantha grinning over her shoulder as she sauntered back down the corridor, a devilish look on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't found any other attempts to write Traynor/T'Suzsa, but if you know of one, be sure to let me know. I just feel that these two could hate each other enough to trigger an unhealthy kind of attraction. Not sure if I captured that properly here!


End file.
